Survivor

Not the best picture of my big boy Indi (Short for Indiana Jones) Before they go home on Sunday, I'll do proper portraits if I can get them to sit. It's hard, because they sleep a lot. The two brothers have turned very grey in the face but it is most noticeable on this guy.

And he should be grey. In the last three years he has had two bouts with cancerous tumors and a vicious flesh eating bacteria on his chest. So much skin has been removed from all over him, you could probably make a Fox Terrier or even a French Bull Terrier from it if you had all the inside parts too. Every time I watch over them I do it as if it's the last time I'll see him and then it isn't, to my great joy. He gives hugs-well not really: he puts his paws on your shoulders when you sit in front of him. I realize it's a display of dominant behavior but it's very convincing to a small child. Even in this ridiculous cold, they still enjoy the woods, so much so that I inevitably get tangled and almost quartered because rarely do they go in the same direction to sniff.

All I did today was hug them, sit with them, rub their ears and bellies and tell them what good boys they are. And picked up a truck load of their poop. With plastic bags and gloved hands. Even in the woods. You can't just leave those giant piles in the woods, even though it freezes within five minutes. In the back yard especially, I deal with it while it is still steaming, before it adheres to the snow and ice, to be snowed over and left till Spring and rediscovered while cutting back the flame grass.

Not much else happened today.